It's A Lifestyle
by Midnight Run inthe Rain
Summary: Marching Band! AU The Hetalia characters are a bunch of hormonal teenagers out in the sweltering sun for many hours on end working together to put a show together. "Is it me, or is half of our band gay?" Mr. Vargas asked Mr. Beilschmidt. "It's you," he deadpanned, "I hope." USUK, PruAus,RoChu, Franada, GerIta, SuFin, DenNor, etc.
1. And It Begins

**It's A Lifestyle**

**Chapter One: And It Begins**

The final bell of the school year rang, releasing swarms of teenagers as they flooded the hallways with cheers and excitement. Finals were forgotten, summer plans were made, and most ran out of the building without bothering to look back. Everyone was excited, but no one seemed as excited as one particular group of talented students.

"Woo! Hellz yeah! And the summer torture we know as Football _**and **_Marching Band begins!" A loud obnoxious voice echoed down the hall over all the other students. "That's so awesome you're doing both as well Gil! I mean last season's show would have been epic had you stuck with it, but now that you're back it's going to be epic-er!"

The white haired boy known as Gilbert nodded proudly and opened his mouth before an annoyed voice beat him. "Will you ever stop butchering the English language, Alfred? If you must use the word 'epic,' say more epic instead. I cringe every time you open your mouth."

"Pfft! You're so funny Artie!" Alfred's sky blue eyes gleamed at the slightly smaller blond. "Looks like somebody's a little grouchie after that super easy Chemistry Final. By the looks of it, you didn't do so hot, huh? Ya shoulda let me tutor you~."

"As if," Arthur walked ahead of the boys, not noticing Gilbert making kiss-y faces at the two blonds while Alfred tried to beat him. "I mean, it wasn't atrocious, but I didn't ace it like all my other finals. I really have to wonder, however, why'd they put two freshmen in a sophomore Chemistry class?"

"Who cares!" Alfred and Gilbert settled down when Arthur turned back around to look at them with a raised, thick eyebrow. "We're just awesome enough and _now_ we're sophomores. Woo! We're not fresh-meat anymore!"

It was Gilbert's turn to scoff at the underclassmen. "You don't know what awesome is. Wait a few more years before you deem yourself so." He snickered as he watched the Briton's frown deepen while Alfred remained unfazed. To distract the smaller boy, Gil nodded over towards a crowd of band kids surrounding the music office. "What's happenin'?"

"Votre père will post zis zeazon'z Drum Majorz in a few minutes," another blue eyed blond waltzed out of the band room followed by a brunet with emerald eyes like Arthur's.

"We all wondering who it'll be between Vash e Elizaveta," the brunet smiled. "It is so obvious dat Roderich will be one ov dem, but de other is a mystery. Francis is betting on Vash y yo on Eliza. What about vosotros?"

"You guys!" Alfred pointed at the Spaniard. "Alright! I know that one! I think I did pretty good on my Spanish test!"

Arthur groaned, "But obviously not on your English."

"Huh?" All four boys cocked their heads.

"I give up," he huffed away to stand next to Elizaveta.

Antonio grinned back at the other three guys next to him. "Looks like Arthur picks Elizaveta, what about you, Gil, Al?"

The American tapped his chin. "I dunno... Vash is great at keeping order, but would probably drive us all insane while Elizaveta is nice, but firm when she wants to be. It'd be cool to have Eliza as the very first female Drum Major in the history of Sekai Academy, but Vash could really whip us into shape along with Roderich. Hmm and they _both _get along with him..."

"Extremely too well if you ask me," Red eyes adverted away from his friends.

Francis smirked as he draped his arm around the German's shoulders. "Ah, mon ami. Do not be jealouz. Juzt zink of it zis way: Roderich really azked you back becauze 'e mizzed you."

"True, True," his grin returned. "Roddie couldn't live without me!" Gilbert detached himself from Francis to push through the crowd and into the office. "Hey vattie! Guess what? I'm back~!"

"Hmm?" The blond band director turned away from the printer with a paper in his hands. "Where did you go?"

"No!" His son proudly puffed up his chest. "I'm marching again!"

A look of dread briefly flashed across the man's usually aloof face. Luckily his son blinked at the time and missed it. "What about American Football?"

"I'm doing both like Al! If he can do it, then so can the awesome me!"

"Why?" His face read no real curiosity, but he was.

"Eh...," the son didn't really want to admit that Roderich basically batted his pretty little eyelashes to convince him. He opted for the more manly, yet one hundred percent accurate description.

It was after lunch when the Austrian strutted towards the jocks' table. He pulled out a chair beside Gilbert, leaned his back against table, crossed his arms then legs, before he looked at the stunned-and oddly turned on-teen. "Gilbert, you should you come back to marching band. We need more flutes."

"What's wrong Little Master? Miss me already?" Gilbert was shocked at the confidence in his voice compared to how he felt. "Do you forget I'm on the football team?"

Roderich simply blinked up at him.

"I'm not giving it up."

A sexy, as Gilbert would describe it, smile appeared on the usually stoic teen's face appeared. "Your point? Alfred did both and he was only a Freshman _**and**_ made it to varsity." He redirected his gaze at the younger boy, laughing at Arthur's blush, a few tables away then back at the albino. "What? Are you not _awesome_ enough? We'll be juniors, I'm sure you can handle both sports."

"Damn right I can!" The German took the bait. "I'm as awesome as they get! Of course I can do both! I can even run the Ornithology club at the same time without breaking a sweat. Challenge accepted Little Master!"

"Good. See you next week, two o'clock sharp," he pushed off the table and sauntered off, leaving Gilbert staring at his ass.

"So I couldn't reject the challenge," Gilbert finished. "That'd be totally un-awesome!"

Mr. Beilschmidt nodded once, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He knew his eldest son couldn't resist the music prodigy. "Take Ludwig home. I'm working late to finalize everything."

Gilbert removed the keys from his pocket and spun them on his index finger, "Got it. See ya later, vatti."

He followed his son out the office only to find his students all looking at him expectantly.

**~1~**

"Like, I totally didn't see that coming!" A mix of Polish and Cali girl accent squealed. "I mean, three Drum Majors? We've never had three, let alone a girl as one! Let it be known, Toris, that today makes history! I wonder like why three, though."

Toris flinched as his friend's yelling in his ear. "I heard we'll have about 120 students in band this year and according to Al, who found out by Arthur, two new students, aside from the freshmen, halfway through next week. That's another new record for our school. At most we've only had 88 and that was last year. Do you think we'll get more guard members, Feliks?"

"Oh we better, or I'm not going to be happy," the teen crossed his arms as his medium length hair swished back and forth. "And if you think you can get out of guard this year, you're sadly mistaken. Come on! Let's go see this year's uniform for us! I hope it's cute!"

"What's the show even called?" He couldn't keep up with his friend so he let him just drag him wherever.

"_One, Two, Three, Steps,_" Natalia, a girl with long, light hair glared at her classmates.

Slightly startled, the light brunet stuttered even more with the girl around him, "W-wh-why are y-you so upset, N-Natalia?"

She swiveled on the balls of her feet right in front of them, causing the anxious adolescent to crash into her. "Why? Because it's a show about dances, which means more flags than rifle or saber! What kind of show are we going to have without rifle or saber? If it wasn't for Katyusha, I'd have quit. Now get out of my way! I only have the weekend away from you before I have to spend my whole summer with you freaks." Natalia whipped back to the front, slapping her long locks across Toris's face. She only took a few more steps before she stopped and sighed heavily.

"Would either of you know Ivan's whereabouts?" The change of tone was so drastic, Toris could only gape like a fish.

"No, we're not his stalkers like you are," Feliks placed a fist on his hip.

"H-he hightailed it out of the school," Toris confessed, then gasped. "You don't think he's the one who trashed guys' locker room, do you?"

**~1~**

A tall and light haired, almost white, blond glanced around the corner before he briskly walked towards one of the many exists of the school. He looked apprehensive and Ivan Braginski was never one for such emotions. The Russian teen was usually the one to instill such expression onto others, but only one person in the world could cause him such affliction: Natalia Arlovskaya. No matter how many times he had tried to be civil or abusive, the girl wouldn't take no for an answer. She's taken it to a level beyond creepy.

That is why he had though he was in the clear when he made it to his coal black cadillac in the student parking lot. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't go unnoticed.

"What is it you running away from, aru?"

"дерьмом!" He whirled around to face the small Chinese teen scowling at him. "You scared me, Yao. Don't do that. Please?" Ivan decided to play it nice with the slightly older teen. He's already been given the "respect your elders" lecture by him and wasn't quite in the mood or had the time to listen to it again.

"Why did you do it?"

Completely misunderstanding him due to lack of elaboration on the question, Ivan shrugged. "It wasn't me who trashed the locker room, although I did like the new decor." He unlocked his vehicle, opening the passenger's side for his friend. "Would you like a ride?"

"Not that," the Asian thanked him for the offer with a slight nod of the head as he entered. "You are quitting band, aru? "

The tall Russian revved the engine before pulling out of the parking lot. "Ah, that, da. I don't think I can handle Natalia's, ah, stalker-ness do you call it? And freshmen are annoying, but mostly its Natalia. She kind of scares me. How did you find out, Yao? I talked to Vargas and Beilschmidt before the last final exam."

Yao crossed his arms, entangling his long sleeves. "I have eyes and ears all around the school, aru. However, that is not up for discussion, we were talking about you and band. If you drop it, the Principal Bonnefoy will make you join something else to ensure you stay out of trouble and I know you liked band last year. Are you really going to stop just because we get new students and Natalia's in Color Guard? You shouldn't be talking."

He continued to ramble, but Ivan didn't stop him even though he knew everything was true. "You were a freshman and _**I**_was able to tolerate you. And you know, you and Natalia are so similar that you shouldn't judge. Besides, you can't quit."

"Oh?"

"You're one of the few tubas remaining."

"Still quitting," Ivan said it in a joyous sing-song-y voice. "Unless you make it worth while, da?"

The small Chinese adolescent looked up at his _friend_, a very loose term of friend that is. "Oh I know! You'll be admitting that Alfred better than you, aru!"

"Not what I was looking for...," he chuckled darkly, "but you're right. I can't let that happen, then."

**~1~**

"Achoo!"

"Bless you Alfred," Arthur walked alongside the taller blond toward's Alfred's car and his brother's vehicle parked next to each other.

"Thanks man! So what'cha think about this year's show? You excited? Can you believe it only a year a go we were freshmen and freaking out over our first parade? Now we get to show the rookies the ropes and have lots-a-fun in the freaking hot sun, spending time with our big happy band family for hours and hours in a week and-"

"Breath you bloody git!" He punched the other's gut. "If you're this obnoxious already, I highly doubt anyone would want to be part of the 'big happy band family.' It's bad enough, _**all**_ of my brother will be in it, let alone my cousins as well. It literally is a big family and no, I'm not looking forward to being stuck with all of them in the sweltering sun for hours on end. In fact, I'm dreading it." Arthur leaned back on his eldest brother's car and banged his head on the car's roof.

"Not only that, but I'm not looking forward to the show either," he looked back and forth between the Alfred's gorgeous sky blue eyes and the authentic blue sky behind him. "Sure, the Color Guard will look and be amazing, but Roderich admitted to me that there'll be dancing among us as well! Half of the bloody band are guys!"

"Really?" Alfred sounded a little too excited. "But Artie, the judges can't tell our genders."

"No, but _**we**_ can," his accent thickened as he uncharacteristically whined.

"Ah, quick your crying!" The oldest Kirkland sibling, Liam Scot, appeared with James behind him. "I know you two lovebirds are excited to dance with each other, so don't cry if you're not paired with Al, Art. Now come on, let's go pick up Peter!"

Arthur tried to punch and kick Scot, but the brother got into his car to avoid his wrath.

James elected to stay out of it, but couldn't stop himself from chuckling. "See you on Monday, Alfred. Let's go Arthur, you know how Peter gets."

"Bye guys!" Alfred waved adorably idiotically until Arthur couldn't see him anymore.

If the teenager was honest with himself, he'd wish the weekend would quickly pass by.

* * *

**Eh... Yeah, sorry another new story! And a confusing Marching Band story with everyone in it! So obviously multiple pairings, but USUK more likely the dominate one because it's what I mostly write.**

**I was only in Marching Band for two years, but those 2 years were wonderful! I'll attempt to explain in case I get readers who weren't in band ****and actually find the story interesting, but keep in mind that every school is different. If you have any questions, please ask because sometimes I get carried away with getting things down.**

**THANK YOU FOR READING! (I'll get right back to mi other stories right away... after work and stuff...)**

* * *

****Show- It's what the marching band performs

Practice/rehearsal- usually begins the first week after the end of school, sometimes earlier(?)

Drum Majors- those students standing on a podium waving their arms, conducting the band

Color Guard- people with the flags, rifles, sabers, and anything else really

Directors- the teachers

**Anything else I miss for this chapter? **


	2. Summer Drama and Romance

**Warning: Language**

**Do not own Hetalia. **

* * *

**Chapter Two: **

**Summer Drama and Romance**

The life of a band director is hectic, especially the last few days of school and the beginning of the marching band season. They have to revise music and positions to assign, coordinates to rearrange, competitions to schedule, visuals to create, and emails to send out for volunteers. It doesn't sound like a lot at first, but each activity takes at the least three hours. If you add it all up, plus the time actually working with the students and adults helping out, it equals to as much as giving up your soul.

Nevertheless, band directors love their job! (Or so they keep telling themselves...)

Which was why Marcus Vargas didn't mind meeting with his best friend, Frederick Beilschmidt on a Saturday morning at his home in attempts to finalize competition dates and a few other loose ends. He had assured Marcus the house would be quite because his wife was away on a business trip in Germany, Gilbert was leaving to hang out with his friends and Ludwig was locked away in his room, doing his summer reading. His brother had offered to take him out, but no matter how much Gilbert asked if he wanted to go with him somewhere, Ludwig usually rejected him. They were really close siblings, but Frederick was sure the blond child was getting tired of dragging his brother's sorry ass out of trouble and back home.

Mr. Beilschmidt never had to worry about his youngest son and could entrust him with classified (band) information, Gilbert was a different story sadly. He couldn't keep his mouth shut even if he tried. It was a wonder he could keep his own secrets, but even those occasionally slipped. No matter his flaws, however, he loved his son. Gilbert certainly kept him on his toes, especially that Saturday morning.

The eldest teen was currently rushing around the house, finishing up his chores so he could get out of the house. He really must have wanted to leave because the albino rarely awoke earlier than noon on a Saturday, even more so the Saturday after the last day of school. "Toni's got a new video game he wanted to play with us that even Fran's excited and he never gets excited over a game!" He explained after questioned by his father.

Once chores were sloppily done and his shoelaces were tied, he jumped off the couch and headed for the door. Ready to get out, he ripped the door open only to find the tree Italians about to ring the doorbell.

"What's up guys? You here for the band geek meeting with vatti?"

Mr. Vargas and his youngest son nodded eagerly while Lovino's scowl deepened. He cursed himself for being too weak to stay at home alone. Ever since the death of Marcus's beautiful wife and their mother three years ago, the twins had never been the same. Feliciano cried more often and usually over the most trivial of things while his older brother had developed a bad streak of cursing and violence.

"Gilbert," his father's deep voice warned him from behind.

"Haha, I'm out, I'm out!" He let the trio in before walking past him to go to the driveway. "Oh! Yo Lovino! You wanna go over to Toni's place?"

Lovino poked is head out through the front door with a glare. "Why would I want to?"

Gilbert shrugged as he got into the driver's seat. "'S better than staying here, but whatev'." He looked back at the younger boy who was bitting the inside of his lip debating internally.

The brunet disappeared back inside before striding back out and into the passenger's seat.

"If we crash you potato bastard, I swear I'm going to haunt your fucking sorry ass in the next life."

"Yeah right," he laughed, pulling out onto the street. "I'm too awesome to crash! Passed the driver's test with flying colors! Born to drive I swear."

A less than polite conversation was held between the two throughout the short drive to Antonio's house. And they were still arguing about Gilbert's purpose on the Earth when they arrived at the Spaniard's home.

"LOVIIII~!"

Hairs stood on end like a chat when the boy heard his name come from the top of the house. He spotted the Spanish teen through the window before he disappeared and appeared once again through the front door. Antonio charged at the smaller teen before he was tackled down by Gilbert.

"¡Qué demonios?" English was forgotten.

Francis had caught the whole thing from the doorway and laughed along with the German on the grass.

"Sorry, it's a habit," he rolled off his best friend in tears. "Gotta defend my quarterback you know."

"And Lovi's _your_ quarterback?" The curly haired brunet glared at his traitor of a friend.

The two remained on the grass, unmotivated to move anymore. "Hey, my body just took over! It was like one second you were Antonio going in for a hug and the next you were an member of the opposing team. Football kinda slams that into you, hahaha."

"Are you dumb asses going to get up or what?" Lovino glared down at them. Too slow to realize what happened next, he toppled over them when Antonio wrapped his arms around his legs. "What the hell? Let go of me, idiota!"

"You might az well give in, mon ami," Francis sat down next to Gilbert, tucking his legs underneath him. "'e won't let go until 'e'z zatizfied and zat might be a while."

Gilbert pushed Francis into the grass and chuckled as his friend flailed in an attempt to avoid grass stains. "You could always give him a kiss. He'll probably faint from happiness and then you can make your great escape. Yeah! Come on! Get to it or else we'll never get to play the awesome game!"

"N-no!" Lovino pushed away, but with little results. "Get. Away. From. Me. Tomato. Bastard! Let goooo!"

"Lovi~" This must have been one of Antonio's many dreams of the boy. There was no way the irate Italian would ever go to his home on his own will. Yet the more the Spanish teen squeezed, the more plausible it felt. It had been about four years ago when he fell in love with him in middle school and he had now finally been able to hold him. And there he was, blushing and adorably cursing, just like he'd always imagine.

**~2~**

Another pair of blond twins sat at their dining room table with swimming trunks on, waiting excitedly. The new pool in their backyard was completed the day before, but early that morning everything was officially set up. It had the appropriate amount of chlorine and the filters were running smoothly and the water was at a perfect temperature for the expected hot day. All the boys needed were the O.K. from their parents before jumping in and they received it as soon as he walked through the sliding glass door.

"Alright boys, have at it!" Their father stepped aside to let the boys through. He watched Alfred dive in the deep end while Matthew gently settled himself onto his inflatable inner tube. So similar were his sons, yet very different at the same time. Matthew was almost his spitting image when he was his age, while Alfred had more of his mother's characteristics and personality. And like his mother, Alfred was playful to the point of annoyance. Mr. Jones was already rolling his eyes at his eldest son's antics.

Alfred swam underwater to reach his brother before popping out and splashing the relaxed form. To their father's great amusement and Alfred's chagrin, Matthew didn't even flinch at the cool water's contact. Seeing them splash around made Mr. Jones wanted to join his sons in the pool, but had promised to go shopping with the Mrs. He could not escape this time, however for he had avoided it far enough. Instead, he opted to sit on the patio as he waited for his wife to be ready.

"Alright boys, no parties while we're out," he finally stood after a few minutes when he heard her in the kitchen. "You can have a few friends over, the maximum is five, but that it. Don't stay in too long."

"Five?" A feminine voice whined behind him. "Oh come on, honey. Five is not enough. They need to have a small party if they want to ever get girlfriends or boyfriends! As long as there's no alcohol, I'm fine with them throwing a summer party!"

"Boyfriends?" Mr. Jones looked from his wife to his sons who had stopped splashing and pointed at each other in alarm. "Well, I guess they can't impregnate anyone if they like guys... Do you?"

"Eh, well...," they began simultaneously, but were interrupted by their mother.

She giggled as she latched onto her husband's arm, "Boy do they! Well I know my Alfie does, but Mattie's a little more secretive. I think he's got two crushes! I'll tell you all I know about them along the way. Take care boys! Stay safe and no alcohol!"

They made their way towards the glass doors before their sons called back to them. "So how many?" Matthew asked while Alfred tried to drown himself from embarrassment.

"Close friends only!" Mr. Jones called behind him, listened to his wife rant about their son's love lives.

"So anyways," Mrs. Jones continues, "You know Richard Kirkland?"

"One of his boys?"

"Yep~!"

They new the coast was clear when their voices diminished as the farther they became and heard the car's doors close.

When Alfred hadn't surfaced, Matthew became worried and abandoned his tube only to have his brother shoot up a second afterwards. "Don't do that Alfred!" He splashed water onto his brother's face. "You really had me worried; you could have died!"

"Uh, that was the point Mattie," Alfred flopped onto his back and floated there. "Dad knows!"

The younger brother rolled his eyes, "Quit being melodramatic. So are we inviting Arthur and Francis or half of the band?"

"How 'bout the football team?"

"Then can my hockey team come too?"

Alfred stood up while Matthew reattached himself to the inner tube as they stared at each other while they contemplated. "Marching band it is," they both agreed upon.

"So you text Arthur and I'll call Franc-" Matthew never finished for at that instant, Gilbert jumped over their fence, followed by Francis, Antonio and Lovino through the gate.

"A little birdie told me you got a new pool!" Gilbert grinned as he made his way towards the siblings. "Why didn't we get in an invite?"

"Hey Gil!" Alfred lifted himself out of the water. "We were just about to text and call a bunch of people actually." He lifted his cell from where he had left it on the patio's table. "Are you psychic or something?"

He laughed and patted his quarterback's wet back. "Nah, I'm just awesome like that! So who should we call?"

Between the six guys they were able to text and call the entire band plus a few extra guests like Alfred's best friend Tony. A few texted back with a quick reply while others lagged behind. He was about to text Arthur an invitation when the French teen plucked the cell from him.

"Oh? Ziz mon lapin? Ohohon, there's ah 'eart next to 'is name~. I want to text 'im!"

**To: Artie **

**Hey Artie! Wanna come to my pool party? All you gotta do is flash me your dick to get in ;D**

"The Fuck!? Noo!" Alfred read from behind Francis and snatched his phone back. His face beat red at Francis's comment. "ARTIE'S GONNA KILL ME, THEN HATE ME FOREVER!" Immediately, he composed another message, but it was too late.

**From: Artie **

**ALFRED F. JONES! YOU HAD BETTER HOPE I DON'T STRANGLE YOU THE NEXT TIME I SEE YOU! **

**To: Artie 3**

**Nonononononono! that was francis not me! he grabbed my phone, honest! we r having a pool party tho, u can strangle him here instead**

"If I don't do it first," he growled up at his friend who was reading over his shoulder.

"You know you wanted it," the teen skips away from him. "You like L'Anglais, non? Il est mignon~." (He is cute~.)

After a quick translation, the host denied any feelings for the young Briton until the French teen was satisfied. Although Alfred was not satisfied until he pushed the teen into the book, fully clothed.

Gilbert and Antonio laughed their heads off, already in the cool water with their boxers as swimwear. Matthew and Lovino barely made it out of the house, with borrowed swim trunks for Lovino, to witness the quarterback's sweet revenge. Both Alfred and Matthew knew it was slightly out of character for the self proclaimed hero, but it had felt so good.

**~2~**

Feliciano and Ludwig were reading out loud, practically snuggled next to each other, when Gilbert's text came through. They-mostly the blond teen- had been reading for a few hours, sitting together in the teen's bed. Every now and then, the brunet would stop him and ask him questions about the storyline or something completely random that had skittered across his head. Normally, it would have annoyed Ludwig to no end from all the constant interruptions, yet the amiable manner the other possessed made it difficult for him to become angry with the teen.

"Do you want to take it from here?" Ludwig had stopped at good section to offer the Italian a chance to continue where he had left off. They were both in the honor's class, but sometimes he wondered how Feliciano had made it into the class.

"Only if you're tired of reading out loud," he looked up at his friend with a genuine smile. "I love Luddy's reading voice~. Sometimes, your voice drops just a little to fit that of a character or you might raise it. Other times you slow down or speed up to that perfect pace. It sets the mood and tone. Ve~."

A light blush appears on the slightly younger adolescent. He had never noticed the slightest change in his reading and would have denied it had the comment not been similar to what his mother always told him. "No, I don't mind," and thus he continued. However this time around, Ludwig was more self-conscious about how he read. At times he would exaggerate more, fearing to let Feli down, but then relaxed and reverted to his normal reading habits.

All was going well until Feliciano rested his head on Ludwig's shoulder as he followed along. Upon the intimate touch, the German tensed up and his heart rate increase. Luckily for him, Feli couldn't exactly feel his quickening pulse, however, he could feel the boy's facial expressions change from confusion to understanding to enjoyment. His constant smiling appearance could never get old for it was Ludwig's own enjoyment to see the lovable Italian so.

Slowly, inch by inch, they became closer and closer until a loud chime startled the boys apart from each other. It came from Ludwig's cellphone on his dresser next to Feliciano who reached for it, but not long after the first received text message that he found one of his own. Avoiding the other's gaze, they read almost identical messages from their brothers, inviting them to Alfred's and Matthew's spur of the moment pool party.

"Party~!"

"Do you want to go?" They finally made eye contact, but not without another blush.

"Ve~. Let's! I'll go ask papà!"

They excited the room only to find their fathers bending awkwardly with instruments in their hands. It was painstakingly obvious that they were planning their visuals for their marching band show, but if it was unpleasant for them, it surely wasn't a good idea to try it on a bunch of high schoolers. Unfortunately, judges in competitions seemed to like uniquely eccentric moves to perform during eight-count-holds. It were times like these that Ludwig had discovered one must be either mentally strong or have full acceptance of their insanity to be in marching band.

They ignored their impending doom and asked for permission to go to the party, which they received. It was only a short walk down the street to the Jones's residence after all, so instead of walking ten blocks to the Vargas home, Ludwig let Feliciano borrow an old pair of swimming trunks. They slipped off of his smaller frame quite easily, so Ludwig had to find thin rope to tie around him. Every time their skin made contact, one or the other could not repress a shiver. What these boys had was not a simple friendship, but a very complex relationship.

Instead of confronting it, although, they made their way over to their friends'. Feliciano tried not to skip along side his-he had to admit- crush, but he could not contain the butterflies still in his stomach.

**~2~**

"Lukas!" A loud, obnoxious Dane stood banging on the Bondevik's front door. "Luke! Lukie! Norge! Lukie! Luke! Luka- Oh, goddag herre Bondevik (good day Mr. Bondevik). I was wondering if Lukas, oh and Emil, wanted to go to Al's swimming party at his home. Totally safe, no alcohol unfortunately, adult supervision... Well Berwald," he cringed, "and Arthur will be there and you know how stick in the muds they are. Oh! And Alfred's a certified lifeguard anyways so that good too!"

"No," the cold eyes Lukas had inherited stared back at him. "They're packing. We're going to Norway, England, Ireland, Iceland, Romania, and Haiti for the summer with us and won't be back until the beginning of the school year."

Mathias dropped his jaw. "What? We have band these next few weeks then at the end of July as well! Lukas- and Emil- can't miss it or they'll be alternates and Lukas hates being an alternate!"

Mr. Bondevik shrugged, not really caring.

The teen could hardly believe it. He couldn't spend the summer away from his boyfriend. Wait, said boyfriend never mentioned anything about this mini world vacation to him.

"We just told them a few hours ago," his "to-be-father-in-law" set his hand on the door, ready to close it.

"Well... You can't. Band's really important! The trumpets depend on him! And it's Emil's first year! Freshmen year is crucial for the remainder of his band years." The tall blond wracked his brain to find a way to keep the boy in the States. "They can stay with me at my parent's hotel, free of charge!"

"With you?" It sounded like he definitely didn't want to allow his son with the adolescent Dane.

A sudden idea hit him, "And the rest of the trumpets. You know Band Camp: I was thinking we could do a section Camp right before Pre-Band Camp or something. He won't be alone then! And come on, Emil will be with us the entire time! Do you really think I'd do anything while he's around?"

"You know you're only digging your grave deeper," a new voice, that he knew and loved, entered the conversation. "I sent you a message a while ago about the trip."

Mathias gave an unintelligent, "Huh? Oh lookie! You did! What? And Vargas and Beilschmidt allowed it on such short notice?"

Lukas gave a nod.

"And you still wanna go?"

Another nod.

"And leave me?!"

Two more nods.

"Hey!"

A smirk appeared on his face.

Above them in his own room, stood Emil watching and listening to the scene below him. He was so glad he wasn't going to marching band this summer due to Kaoru's sudden interest in the sport. It seemed everywhere and everything he did, the boy was there as well.

"What about all the drill you'll miss! You might be made into an alternate! What if they were going to give you first trumpet?! Do you really want Antonio or Alfred to take that honor away from you?" Mathias saw the smirk twitch downwards and kept going. "Think of your brother! It's his first year! A crucial year for him to learn how to march and read drill sheets! Think about the children!"

WHACK!

A shoe smacked the Dane in the forehead, making him see beer mugs circle around his head. He looked up in time to catch Emil remove his other shoe to chuck at him. "Shut up Dane!"

A wicked grin appeared on his face. "Lukas! You gotta help me raise my new bunny!"

"NO! Don't listen to him, brother!" Emil leaned over the windowsill. "I'll give you bunnies and kittens, and puppies! I'll give you a hug if you refuse him!"

"Just imagine," Mathias looked up at Emil, "little Emie in a fairy costume. You know Artie's probably going to be section leader of the saxophones since Victor hates taking care of everyone and stays away from band drama. And if he's section leader, he'd probably have his way with having the section dress as fairies. Wouldn't that be cute? Or maybe you could even convince him to dress Emie in something cutely! Think of the possibilities!"

"Don't even!"

"Where the hell did the third shoe come from?!" He dodged it easily, but did not expect a dictionary at his head. "OUCH! Hey, is that a Icelandic to Chinese dictionary?"

Lukas had closed the door ignoring his brother and boyfriend to ponder his choices. It was so difficult with both of them making so many offers, but he doubted Emil would really get him any sort of pet. Mathias on the other hand, while he knew he had no bunny at his home, knew the boy would buy it without a second though had he really wanted Lukas happy. There was also the prospect of traveling to Haiti, the country of religion mixed with voodoo, and other countries full with magic and folklore. What would have taken a normal person days to decide, took Lukas only a few seconds. Decision made, he opened the door to find random objects raining upon Mathias.

"Just wait until Kaoru see's this!" The tall teen laughed despite being pelted by hard objects Emil could get his hands on.

**~2~**

Arthur was still red over the crude text message Alfred or Francis had sent him, whether from anger or embarrassment he did not know. Not even his two older brothers, Liam Scot and James, dared to mess with their little brother when they saw him storm out their front door. He simply had _the look_. It was that of an emotionless killer, something they knew full well their brother could be capable of, but did not ever want to test it out. Liam and Arthur were the two brothers with the shortest temper, but out of the two, Arthur instilled the strongest fear the most. Even the eldest brother would back down when Arthur was like this.

His normally beautiful, emerald eyes-usually filled with life and curiosity-were cold and dead. Aside from the blood in his face, his facial expression held no clue as to what was going through his head except for retribution. And he will get it. Arthur's strides were steady and long with purpose to get to either of the bastards at Alfred's home. Luckily he didn't live far from him and made it fairly quickly.

He encountered Lukas's blushing baby brother running away from the backyard with a rather large book in his arms. Mathias's laughter could be heard from the sidewalk where Arthur was, but he didn't allow himself to be distracted from his sole purpose of strangling the culprit who sent the message. It had to be Francis like Alfred had said and that's what infuriated him even more. He knew of his feelings for Alfred, yet still sent him that message through the lad's phone. Now he was to pay.

However, when Yao's younger brother soon appeared behind Emil and asked the Briton for the direction the pale blond had gone, he lost a little of his focus. Honestly, he wasn't quite sure, but it was either left or right, so he pointed right and continued on his way.

There Francis was, talking to Gilbert and Matthew when he spotted his irate classmate charging at him. "Ah mon ami if ziz iz about you zhowing uz your-"

He never finished because Arthur sped up to a sprint before, according to Gilbert, beautifully tackling Francis into the pool beside him.

Alfred witnessed it all before he dived in as well to break up the fight. He partially felt responsible for the Frenchman's text.

"Looks like the saxophones are gonna be the section with the most drama this season," the albino couldn't stop laughing as Alfred pulled a pissed Arthur out of the pool. He looked like a wet cat ready to attack again when the frog made his way to the surface by himself.

"Dude, Artie, are you okay? I may be a heroic lifeguard, but I can't rescue both of you guys at the same time! You made me worry for a bit there." Alfred stared down at Arthur who was drenched, fully clothed, and underneath him. A gin broke through his serious exterior before he poked the English teen in the cheek. "I'm pretty sure 'gentlemen' don't dive in like that."

Arthur smacked his hand away. "Git," he started, but couldn't continue because he noticed the circumstance he was in. There was Alfred, staring down at him with his crystal blue eyes as bright as the sky behind him and the pool beside him, half naked. All anger and thought fled his mind only to realize he was staring when water droplets from the younger teen's hair dropped onto Arthur's face. "I, eh, w-wouldn't have done such an ungentlemanly action h-had someone guarded their cellphone properly."

"Hey! He just took it out of my hands! And at least you're here, you wouldn't have come had you not a score to settle." Alfred looked no more than an excited five year old at his friend's appearance.

Francis whipped his wet hair back; he hadn't wanted to get it wet, but it was too late now. A smirk appeared on his face, however, when he saw how close the two were. It was too much to resist. "My, my, I zee you are going to pay ze admizzion price after all, but what about m-"

Alfred wasn't fast enough to contain Arthur. He dodged the American's arms, leaped at the Frenchman and into the water then went again.

Matthew sighed as he looked on at the scene and nodded. "This is not good. It was pretty chaotic last year with Francis, Arthur, and Lovino in the same section, but now our neighbor, Molossia* and the two freshmen who just ran out being in their section too."

"So glad I'm back! This would be too awesome for me to miss!"

* * *

*** I know I have written Molossia, but I need a name for him. Actually, I need names for a lot of "new" characters and Hong Kong (if you want it changed). Micro-nations and other nations are going to appear, but I need names and even genders. I'm fine with giving them names myself, but I would love if you'd name 'em as well! Victor is Brazil, but if there's already a name for him or if its a her according to Fandom or whatever, please tell me! I'll have a list of characters and their information like grade level and instruments and such on my profile for you to refer to if you want. It took me for ever and you have no idea how much sleep I'm lacking so sorries for the mistakes! Even my two roomies fell asleep before me and I'm usually the first in bed.**

**IMPORTANT: Do you guys mind if I change the rating to M. It' won't be too... graphic? The band is perverted, just saying. It's teenager stuff, you know ;D**


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